


The Darkness Never Really Leaves You

by DestielRuinedMyLife (destielruinedmylife)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Barebacking, Brother Feels, Demon Dean Winchester, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Incest, M/M, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5566054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielruinedmylife/pseuds/DestielRuinedMyLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to find a cure for his brother, Sam Winchester had finally allowed this demon version of his brother Dean to roam free and to hunt with him.  He knew it was risky, but he didn't realize it would turn out to be as seductive as it was dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkness Never Really Leaves You

**Author's Note:**

> This would take place right after the events of S10 Ep2 "Reichenbach". My first ever Wincest fic, I hope you enjoy it.

Sam was tired. He had looked for his brother for what felt like ages, only to discover that what had been Dean was now a demon version of the brother he had so desperately sought to find…

When he first saw Dean’s eyes flash black on a gas station security camera he had almost been relieved. Demon possession was old hat to them. Restrain him and exorcise the demon, and his big brother would be himself again. But thanks to the mark of Cain, the King of Hell, and one extremely douchey Scribe of God, his brother had been _reborn_ a demon. Somewhat more complicated. Still, he had managed to find him in that shitty bar and with the use of holy water and the lucky timing of that idiot Cole attacking Dean, he had gotten the drop on him and hauled his ass back to the bunker where he belonged. So there they were: Dean restrained in the dungeon, and Sam sitting in the dark drinking his brother’s whiskey in the library, trying to figure out why the ritual hadn’t worked.

While he had performed the ritual before on Crowley, that had been a more complicated affair. He needed to cure a demon, but it was only a piece of the puzzle to close the gates of hell, which had involved more incantations, and a hell of a lot more pain and sacrifice. Which had been for nothing, Sam remembered bitterly. If his brother had only let him go, none of this would be happening… still, it was too late for what-if. All he knew is that he had performed the ritual exactly the way it was shown on the Men of Letters video reels, and nothing. Not even a hint that it had worked, even a little.

Dean had quietly mocked him the entire time he had tried, but that truly didn’t bother him. Sam remembered when they used to take that sort of thing to heart, when they were younger… cruel words said to each other while possessed or under the influence of some spell or cursed object… no more. They had been through so much that simple words didn’t seem to have the same bite they used to- and they both knew full well how helpless they were in those situations, having both been in them, many, so many times. All Sam cared about was finding a cure. Castiel was three days out, and Sam was out of ideas. With a sigh, he put down his glass and went to check on what was left of his brother.

Dean was still tied to the chair, his green (at the moment) eyes lighting up when Sam entered the room. “Come to try again, little brother?” Dean smiled, but it was not the boyish, sometimes goofy smile that Sam was used to. This was a predatory smile that unnerved Sam in ways he couldn’t even begin to express. The goodness behind his brother’s eyes was simply gone, and every time Sam saw that, a tiny part of him wanted to give up. Dean was not in there. At the same time, Dean’s tastes, his lusts, his hungers, his personality even, were still there. It was just as if someone had scooped out all his morality, and only his pure Id remained. Sam sighed. “No. I’m done trying for now.”

Dean’s eyes followed Sam as he pulled a chair from behind a table and sat facing his brother. ”Waiting for the angel, aren’t you?” Sam replied simply “Yes.” He saw no reason to lie. “Then what are you doing down here? Come to tell me a bedtime story? I mean, not that I know what time of day or night it is, since you keep me locked up like an animal.” Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall treating you like that when you lost your goddamn soul.” Sam got up from his chair. “Actually, asshole, you fucking DID.” “Yeah but when you busted loose, we let you STAY loose. I don’t see how this is any different.” Sam hesitated for a moment just because, when he thought about it, he couldn’t really rationalize how it WAS that different. “This is different,” Sam said, almost half-heartedly, “You are evil. I was just…empty.”

Dean laughed. “Oh really? How many people did you kill while you were just “EMPTY”. Don’t kid yourself with that line-of-duty crap I was THERE with you. I know you didn’t give a shit whether anyone lived or died and you were just going on autopilot with the job because you had nothing else to do. You tried to kill BOBBY, kiddo. Bobby. Worse than anything I’ve done since the black eyes. And guess what Sammy- I don’t care whether people live or die either. I’m not Jack-the-fucking-Ripper. I’m not going to bust out of here and go on a killing spree when there’s nothing in it for me, so how about you just let me free. You can lock up the bunker magically somehow, whatever- just let me sleep in my own bed for fuck’s sake.” “Demons don’t sleep.” Sam practically spat the words. But despite himself, he hesitated. “I’ll think about it”, he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the dungeon.

And despite himself, Sam _did_ think about it. He thought back to when he was soulless, how his brother had let him stay free, had offered to serve as his conscience even. His “Jiminy Cricket” he had said.   Sam smiled at the memory. As far as he knew, Dean hadn’t done anything as bad or worse than what he had done when he was left to his own devices under those circumstances. He started to feel a familiar guilt creep up- the guilt that he always felt when he thought he might be treating Dean in a way that Dean would never treat him, no matter what the circumstances. But if he was even going to consider this, he was going to have to find one hell of a spell to lock the bunker on the inside. If Dean decided to get all murder-ey, the only person who would suffer the consequences would be Sam. He would make sure of it.

 

Sam looked up from his book at the mug of coffee Dean was placing in front of him. It had been three weeks since he had found a spell to seal off the bunker completely and freed his brother, and things were going as well as could be expected. Cas had, unsurprisingly, flown off the handle when he realized what Sam had done. Sam had let Cas into the bunker but by then Dean had been free for two days without incident (though Sam was careful to lock his bedroom door at night and booby-trap his room) and Cas could not convince Sam to confine Dean to the dungeon again.

“This is dangerous, Sam! Do you even REALIZE how dangerous?? He could kill you, Sam! He could ESCAPE.” Sam had listened patiently but explained that the bunker’s seal was completely under his control, and if any harm came to him he had rigged it to destruct from the inside- killing his brother along with him. “Besides, Cas, neither one of us has found a way to cure him and we have both tried. How long do you propose we keep him tied up? Forever??” In the end Cas had mumbled something about unnatural co-dependency and stupidity and literally stomped out to continue his search for a cure. In the meantime, Sam had started to have strange dreams.

As he drank his coffee, he thought of the dreams that had been troubling him. He could never remember them after he had woken up, which is what bothered him the most. He woke up shaking, covered in sweat, and sometimes calling out, but he could never keep his mind on what he had been dreaming about…he just knew he woke up feeling terrified but somehow satiated, and even…aroused. Not sexually, just in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, and he could not put his finger on it. In hindsight of course, he felt like a fool for not recognizing it sooner.

A few weeks later they were no closer to finding a cure, but Sam seemed to think about that less and less. It had been months now. Dean barely spoke to him; practically avoided him in fact, and spent most of his time in his room doing God only knew what. Sam hadn’t allowed him to have any books outside of ones he pre-approved, afraid he might try to break the bunker’s spell. He needn’t have worried, as Dean never touched _any_ book unless he had to- much less the kind of tomes he would have to trudge through to even begin to understand the combination of complicated spells that Sam had used. Dean was a man who always played to his strengths, and outsmarting his brother via book-learning was not one of them.

He mostly just polished and sharpened his various weapons, or lay in bed listening to records. Sam was relieved. But in the mornings, Dean would be hungry. He would make a huge breakfast for both of them complete with a big pot of coffee, after which he would make a stack of sandwiches and grab chips and whiskey then take all of it to his room where he usually would stay the rest of the day. This had become their daily routine, and Sam had gotten used to it. It was disconcerting of course, as he was painfully aware he was not living with “his” Dean, but it was also soothing in a strange way. Then one morning, Dean did not emerge from his room.

Sam shrugged it off, thinking maybe Dean didn’t feel well, had slept in, was hungover, whatever. He would be out later probably. In the meantime, Sam made his own breakfast then headed to the library, deciding he would do some research then make some calls today following up on leads- something he had been neglecting a bit lately. He was determined to make some progress. Somewhere around the late afternoon, Sam looked down to notice that his hands were shaking. He had been having trouble focusing, and decided he was probably just hungry. He had only made some toast & coffee that morning instead of the usual giant meal Dean served up, and he hadn’t eaten since.

He went to the kitchen and made a sandwich, then put on another pot of coffee. He had ended up drinking the entire pot that morning, but now found himself craving more. No wonder he had been shaking, he thought… man he must really be sleep deprived to still want more. He carried the sandwich, a cup, and the entire pot back into the library. Two hours later the sandwich was eaten and the pot emptied, and it was then that Sam realized something was truly wrong. He was still shaking, but now it was his whole body. And there was something else. He was craving more coffee. Normally Sam would drink two or three mugs, but he had downed two pots and stood up to make a third before he stopped himself. He did not need this much damn coffee- what in the world was wrong with him?

It was at that moment Dean appeared in the doorway. “Need something Sammy?” he asked as he leaned against the doorframe. “I was just… going to make more coffee.” Sam mumbled as he pushed past Dean and walked into the kitchen. Dean followed him slowly then leaned against the wall again. “I know what you’re feeling little brother, but I don’t think another pot of that is going to help.” Sam startled. “What do you mean. Why not.”

Dean smiled widely- the amused, predatory smile that Sam hadn’t seen since the dungeon. “Because Sammy, I make it special, just for you. You just don’t make it right. You don’t have that…oh, I don’t know…that _special_ ingredient. Maybe it’s love. Do you think that it’s love, Sammy?” Horror and realization dawned in Sam’s eyes at the same time that Dean rolled up his sleeves, revealing multiple bandages up and down his arms. Sam’s dreams now came screaming to him in a rush, and he realized exactly what he was feeling right now. Withdrawals. He remembered.

“You… you DOSED me. With your…” Sam could barely choke the words out. “Your _blood_??” Dean pulled his sleeves down again. “Hey, I seem to remember you love the stuff. Anyway, when I kept upping the dose I just KNEW you had to figure it out soon, I kept thinking- any day now… but somehow you never did Sam. Want to know why I think that is?” Sam stared at him, still in too much shock to react fully to the rage building inside his chest. “Because you DID figure it out. Deep down. But you didn’t want to admit it, because then you would have to try to make it stop…and somehow, I get the feeling your own pure-demon brother tastes a million times better than the run-of-the-mill possessed minions you used to go all Dracula on back in the day.”

Dean was smiling again, and Sam could swear his eyes were twinkling. Sam finally jolted into motion, throwing his body full-force against Dean and knocking him into the next room. Dean slid across the floor and came to a stop against the dining room wall and stayed there on his back, laughing. Sam yelled “HOW COULD YOU, DEAN?!” knowing even as he screamed it, how very stupid it sounded.

After all- why _wouldn’t_ he?

Then the horror settled deep into Sam’s stomach as he realized two things: One, that Dean was right- what he had been consuming was so much better and more powerful than anything he had ever had before, and somewhere inside he had known he felt different- stronger. So much more powerful. And two, that the balance of power had shifted. Sam was not beaten, but he knew that he was in trouble. Because he DID want more. And now his full-time job was to make sure he never drank from his brother again. Sam almost gagged at the thought. Finally he turned around and strode to his room, slamming the door behind him, his breath coming in heaves as the sound of Dean’s laughter still lingered in the background.

Bobby was gone. Cas would give him a fat dose of I-Told-You-So; everyone else they knew that he truly trusted was dead or gone. Sam had to deal with this on his own. He knew what came first: Detox. He grimly locked and barred his door, chugged half a bottle of the whiskey on his side table, chugged a glass of water from his bathroom sink, then laid down in bed, waiting to pass out, and only hoping it would happen quickly. It didn’t.

After a fitful night, he realized he hadn’t thought this through. In his haze of horror and rage it hadn’t occurred to him that he would need food, he would need supervision; he would need SOMEONE ON HIS TEAM, if he was going to beat this. I mean, years ago, it had almost killed him. He had been thrown across the room like a rag doll, had hallucinated his younger self, even his mother… but this time was different. None of that surfaced. He lay there in bed, covered in sweat and longing, but there were no hallucinations. No distractions. All he saw was his brother. Dean’s neck pulsating with blood, his bright eyes… and somewhere deep inside of him- Dean’s smile. His REAL smile. Sam was in Hell. Lucifer himself could not have dreamed of the Hell he was in.

 

Sam drank. He drank deep. He had known that he should have called Cas, called another hunter, called ANYONE- hell, even just locked Dean up and got out of dodge until he knew what was what. But he just didn’t. He couldn’t fight it. He had simply lain in bed in misery, wanting to go to his brother, wanting to call for help, and doing neither. Finally, after a few days, his brother’s figure appeared in his doorway and Sam’s entire body and mind seemed to just give in.

Dean would come into the room, slice himself wherever he saw fit, then lay down next to Sam, never saying a word. The first time it was his wrist. Then his shoulder, then his neck, and then… well, Sam didn’t like to think of the time he sucked on Dean’s inner thigh, letting Dean’s hand push the back of his head down to the shallow cut on his leg, grasping the other side of it as he sucked it down; just _needing_ the blood…more than he had ever needed demon blood before. This was sick, wrong, and beyond reason. Although he said nothing, Dean appeared to get off on it, if the sharp intakes of breath and the hardening in his pants next to Sam was any indication, but Sam needed the blood so badly he chose to ignore it. The guilt and shame were eating at him night and day, but the lust for his brother’s blood was stronger.

To push the thought of how intimate this was becoming out of his head, he turned his mind to using his powers for good. Something positive needed to come out of this Freudian shit-show… but on the other hand, going out into the world with Dean as he was, well… it was dangerous in about a million different ways. But Sam needed this to matter. And one day, he decided. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to use his power. They started hunting again.

Sam pulled the Impala to the side of the road, where Castiel’s hideous gold pimp-mobile was waiting. Dean used to insist on driving, but he never gave a shit anymore. Not about the car, or who drove it. It still somehow broke Sam’s heart. He pushed the thought out of his head. With Dean in the passenger seat and Cas leaning against his shiny monstrosity with his arms folded, waiting… this was not a meeting that Sam had looked forward to.

The brothers had been hunting for a while- and because of that he had managed to avoid Cas- avoid this conversation- for a few more months. But there was no hiding it anymore. Even without angel radio, word had gotten out that the Winchesters were back at it and more than that- that the elder Winchester was dropping monsters like he was swatting flies, while the younger Winchester had been exorcising demons with no more than a glance.

 

There had been a strong partnership, dare he even say, trust, that had evolved as they hunted together. Something Sam did not expect and certainly could not explain. He needed Dean and Dean needed him. No, that wasn’t entirely accurate… Sam needed Dean’s blood, and Dean, well, Dean _wanted_ something from Sam. Sam knew what it was. He knew deep down, and instead of choosing the denial he had surrendered to as he drank his brother’s blood every other night, finally he had asked Dean frankly about it. Sam was through with lies.

It was after a particularly grueling hunt and they were in the same kind of musty hotel they were used to. After they had put their gear down Sam had gone in search of food while Dean showered. When Sam came back, Dean emerged from the bathroom in only a towel, which he slowly removed then used to dry himself off. In the old days, they would do this in private. After all- they were in each other’s presence 24/7- they had both needed some semblance of privacy. But not anymore, apparently. Sam had put the food down then turned to look at Dean- only to find him staring at Sam as he slowly dried his naked body and reached for boxers, clearly in no rush. Sam finally reached his limit.

“What do you want, Dean. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable? Assert some sort of weird dominance?? Are you trying to show me that you are not my brother because BELIEVE ME, I KNOW.” Sam was shouting now, which was not his intention, but the frustration and the questions had been building and despite himself, he had let himself start to think of this dangerous, gorgeous man as… someone else entirely. I mean, he didn’t hunt the same, he didn’t move the same, he didn’t speak the same… most importantly- he didn’t smile the same. Didn’t look at Sam the same. It had been a very long time since Dean had awoken with black eyes and as much as he hated it, Sam had truly begun to feel as though he were the only Winchester left standing.

Dean smiled, put on his boxers and a white t-shirt then sat on the edge of his bed. “Oh Sam, you get me all worked up when you yell at me.” Sam flushed. “See?? That’s exactly what I mean. What is your endgame here, Dean. What the fuck do you want from me.” Dean looked up and said sincerely, “In general? Or tonight? In general, I want to keep killing things with you, because it’s fun for me to kill things- I need to, and you are the perfect person to kill things with because you are unquestionably loyal to me no matter how much I’ve changed. That is valuable to me. But tonight? Tonight I’d sort of like you to fuck me. I mean, I’ve been wanting that for a while, but since you asked.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Dean- we are BROTHERS, what the FUCK are you talking about!” In one second, Dean was off the bed and had Sam pinned to the wall, his hand around his throat. “Let’s get one thing straight right now, _Sammy_ (the word dripped with sarcasm)…I am NOT your brother. Your brother loves you. Your brother cares if you live or die. I don’t. I just want to fuck your ass into next year but since you are new to this, I figured letting you fuck me was a better first step.

After Dean released his neck, Sam coughed for a bit, then managed to choke out a ridiculous sentence… “But Dean…you aren’t even gay.” Dean immediately began to laugh his ass off. Sam stuttered “Well, maybe bi, I mean, I could always see you had a thing for Cas, but I never thought you would admit it…” he trailed off lamely. Dean’s eyes flashed. “Good instincts, Sam. And if I get the chance, I’m going to fuck that gorgeous angel of the Lord so hard he will only be able to scream in Enochian. But this isn’t about him.” Sam recoiled. “What you are talking about is incest, Dean. No matter what’s going on, you are still my brother.”

Dean approached Sam again, this time more slowly. He raised one hand, and placed it on Sam’s heart. “And what of it. How many years have we spent together- alone. Just us. How much have we given up to be with each other. This is just a progression. Fight it all you want. Just know that when you give up- I’m one bed over.” And with that, Dean walked over to his bed, got in it, turned off his light, and lay there.

Sam knew that Dean wasn’t asleep. Demons don’t sleep. Somehow that made it easier, because his brother DEFINITELY slept. This Thing was not his brother. It was a pureblood demon and somehow it was hot as hell. The demon blood that kept Sam high all the time- that helped. Plus when it came to demons, this was not Sam’s first sexual rodeo. And after spending an hour or so in a cold sweat, thinking about those words, he made a decision. He got out of bed.

He towered over Dean’s bed, not making a sound. Dean spoke, out of the almost pitch-darkness. “What do you want, Sam?” Sam didn’t say a word. He stripped off all of his clothes slowly, then remained standing there. Finally, he spoke. “For your sake, I hope you prepared. Because I don’t intend to be gentle.” Dean chuckled softly. “Been prepared all day. I had a feeling it was going to be tonight.” Dean removed something from under the covers that Sam couldn’t see. “Come on, baby brother.   Been stretched out and waiting.” Sam did not have experience in this area but he was so furious at this thing that was not his brother calling him that; so turned on by how beautiful it was, and his cock was so hard, that he just didn’t care.

He slid his naked body into bed next to Dean’s. He really loved the longer hair the demon version of his brother seemed to prefer… it somehow reinforced the difference between the two versions (Dean never changed his hair. Never.), and it also gave him a nice handhold to turn him on his side, not at all gently. Sam lined his cock up with Dean’s ass and shoved it in. Under normal circumstances that would have been a horrific move, especially considering the fact that Sam’s cock was more than proportional to his 6’4” height and muscly frame, but between the butt plug and the lube- Dean was ready. Dean instantly began moaning like a whore. Sam lost his mind, and all control. He flipped his brother onto his stomach and just pounded in, over and over.

He was crying silently, and his tears fell onto Dean’s back along with his sweat and Dean felt both and smiled into the pillow. He knew he had won. Sam pounded relentlessly- not even knowing or caring if the monster below was enjoying it… until finally, he was spent. After blowing what felt like a lifetime’s worth of cum all at once into his brother’s ass he had collapsed briefly onto Dean’s back, panting. After a few seconds he leaned over and pulled a knife from the bedside table, cut a deep slice into his brother's shoulder as Dean hissed with pain, then drank deep.  A few minutes later he had gotten up without a word, showered, and had gone straight to his own bed. He was equally parts horrified and satisfied. Of course, that was only the first time.

The next time was not as difficult emotionally, and it had gotten easier and easier as time went on. Dean had called it a natural progression and really, it had started to feel that way to Sam. The close proximity they always shared, the emotional co-dependency, the lack of physical intimacy in their lives…part of Sam wondered how it never came to this before Dean had become a demon, then he instantly flinched at the thought. Getting confirmation that his brother had always been bi was one thing, but the idea that Dean, _his_ Dean, would ever have considered incest... the thought was ridiculous. Dean had been “normal”- it was clear to Sam that _he_ was the broken and damaged one.

But demon blood was coursing through Sam’s body pretty much constantly now so the more human, sensitive thoughts and feelings Sam used to have were happening more rarely and were easier to suppress. The raw power coursing through him made him feel more like an animal- more like, well…a demon. Sam was in trouble, and he knew it.

 

As the sex had gotten less emotional for Sam it had now begun to feel like a normal end to a hunt. They would go out, wreak bloody havoc on a vamp nest or a mess of demons, arrive home bloodied and bruised, yet still keyed-up in a way that wouldn’t feel satiated until one of them was inside the other. At this point Sam had learned the ropes. He had learned how to stretch Dean out slowly and hit all the right spots and eventually, he had wanted to know how it felt. Because Dean seemed sure as fuck to enjoy it. So one day he had pushed his brother up against the wall of yet another seedy hotel and as Dean began the usual routine Sam had stopped him.

“No, Dean. Not this time. This time I want to take it.” Sam had said it forcefully but Dean had sensed the false bravado in his voice and smiled wickedly. “Whatever you want, Sammy. You’re lucky I’m not going to do you like you tried to do me the first time.” Sam flushed. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. And I wasn’t myself.” Dean licked his lips. “You’re not really yourself at all these days. I fucking like it.”

Dean had pulled off Sam’s shirt as Sam quickly unbuckled his belt and within seconds he had kicked his jeans and boxers off. Dean pushed the now naked Sam onto the bed then undressed himself and joined his brother. Had Dean been human he might have asked if Sam was sure- if this was what he really wanted. But Dean couldn’t have given less of a shit in his current state. He looked at Sam’s tan, well-muscled body like it was a piece of ass and nothing else, which always made it much easier for Sam. Dean grabbed the lube off the nightstand, pushed Sam onto his stomach and began to work him open with his fingers- not too quickly, but not all that gently either.

Sam felt a burning pain, but enough curiosity and pleasure to go along with it that he didn’t try to make it stop. Dean was biting Sam’s back and shoulders and sucking wet kisses onto his neck, which distracted from the pain. Then, in a move that shocked Sam to his core, Dean moved down and started to lick his ass. “DEAN!” Sam said, as Dean started to move his tongue towards the center of his ass. Sam suddenly had the thought “My brother is about to put his tongue in my ass” flash into his brain and for a second he was truly going to stop it from happening- but then Dean’s tongue was already pushing deep inside and he lost all coherent thought. Then suddenly Dean had two fingers inside him, fucking him, while his tongue was lapping all around Sam’s asshole simultaneously, and Sam couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do it, Dean. For fuck’s sake, Dean, please just fuck me.” Dean stopped eating his ass but added a third finger as he practically growled- “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Did you say please? Did you say it like you meant it?” Sam couldn’t see the grin on the demon’s face but if he had, it would have made his blood run cold. But as it was, Sam was feeling physical sensations he had never felt in his life and his cock felt like it was going to explode, and all he knew was that he needed more than Dean’s fingers. He needed his brother’s cock in his ass and he needed it now. So he begged, breathlessly. Desperately. “Please Dean, please, fuck, I need your cock inside me, please, please fuck me.” Dean took his fingers out of Sam’s ass, coated his thick cock liberally with lube with one hand then tangled the other in his brother’s long hair and shoved Sam’s face into the pillow.

He leaned right into Sam’s ear and bit it before whispering. “Never forget that you begged me for this.” And with that he slid his cock into Sam’s ass and started moving. Slowly at first, but as soon as he felt his brother fully relax, he started fucking him hard into the mattress. He aimed for Sam’s prostate with deadly precision, determined to make his brother cum without even having to touch his cock. He had wanted for a long time to make this huge, muscly man into his moaning, mewling bitch and he intended to succeed.

Pretty much everyone he had ever encountered had found Dean to be gorgeous, but he knew his brother hadn’t ever been affected by his looks until he had become a demon. He decided to use that. He flipped Sam’s giant body effortlessly over without his cock ever leaving Sam’s ass, then leaned over him. He took his brother’s hands and placed them on his own chest then barked “Open your goddamn eyes” since Sam had them clenched shut. As Sam’s eyes opened Dean made his eyes flash black and kept them that way as he thrust into his brother. “Keep your goddamn eyes open.” Sam’s hands moved from Dean’s chest down to his hips and Sam’s breathing told Dean he didn’t have to wait much longer. Sam reached down to stroke his cock and Dean slapped it away. “Nope.” Dean fucked Sam with all his strength, causing Sam to brace himself to the bed and Dean listened with smug satisfaction as his baby brother came undone below him. His heaving breaths became moans and he started chanting his brother’s name like a goddamn prayer. “Dean, Dean, DEAN!”

Sam came harder than he ever had in his life, his cock untouched, shooting ropes of thick cum all over his own stomach. As he lay there spent and shivering, Dean pulled out of Sam’s ass and started licking the cum off his brother’s abs and hipbones. It somehow mirrored the way Sam drank from Dean's veins and Sam quivered, somehow simultaneously spent and more turned on than he had ever been in his life. He panted out “What about you…” Dean looked up from Sam’s stomach and regarded him almost fondly. “Oh Sammy, you are adorable.” He pulled himself up, straddled his brother, then unceremoniously jerked off onto Sam’s face. Sam pulled his head up off the pillow and sucked off what was left, then lay back and licked his lips. “Goddamn you are a filthy bitch, Sam.” Sam, still out of breath, smiled slightly then turned over and fell asleep, not even bothering to clean up. He liked having Dean’s cum on him and anyway, he would shower in the morning.

The hunting and the fucking had continued, and then he had received that fateful call. Cas had heard disturbing rumors. Cas needed to talk to Sam, NOW. Cas had found something in the way of curing Dean. Fuck. FUCK. So they had agreed on a meeting time and place, since the alternative was basically forcing Cas to find THEM, which he was perfectly capable of doing. Better to get ahead of it, so he could hopefully lie his way out of most of it. He had freed Dean, he had drunk from him- become addicted, and he had begun fucking his own brother. It had felt like a wild ride but he had a sinking feeling everything was about to change.

He finally had to face Castiel.

 

He approached Cas and tried to address him lightheartedly. “Hey Cas, what’s the word?” Castiel narrowed his eyes at the younger Winchester. “I think you know why I am here. I’ve heard your powers have returned which can only mean one thing. As much as I don’t want to believe it- as much as I KNOW you know better, it can only mean one thing.” Sam stared at the ground, without answering. Cas moved in front of him, to face him. He placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Sam. You have been DRINKING from your brother. Don’t deny it.”

Sam looked into Castiel’s eyes and suddenly had no desire to deny it. He looked away. Cas spoke gently. “Sam, we can get you help. You can’t continue this way. We will fix this. Please, don’t be ashamed. Power is a seductive prospect and your close proximity to this _monster_ (Sam flinched) could not have been easy. You are not to be blamed- especially as I have heard that you have only been using your powers for good.” Sam could at least feel decent about that…he HAD kept his brother in check. They had only been taking out monsters. But Sam had the uncomfortable feeling that it was because HE had been Dean’s project that his brother had been on the straight and narrow otherwise…

Cas continued “Anyway here’s the good part Sam: I have FINALLY found a cure for Dean!” Cas looked at Sam and grinned widely, expecting him to share in his joy. Instead, Sam just looked wretched. Cas’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No, Sam- this will WORK. I searched the Heavens and the Earth. This spell- it will change Dean back. Absolutely! You will have your brother again.” Again Cas stared at Sam’s face, expecting to find happiness, relief, joy- SOMETHING. Instead Sam seemed on the verge of tears. Castiel wasn’t all that perceptive but he knew something was very, very wrong. “I’ll be right back”.

He walked to the Impala and addressed Dean calmly through the rolled-down window. “Hello Dean.” Dean smirked. “Hey Cas, did you miss me?” Cas answered truthfully, as he was wont to do. “Yes Dean, I have missed you horribly- but not in this form. I would like you to return to wherever you and Sam are staying. I am going to take Sam to get some dinner then I will bring him back to you in a few hours. Is that acceptable?” Dean looked slightly disconcerted but slid over to the driver’s seat. “Fine Cas, whatever.” He drove off. Cas returned to Sam.

After a silent 15-minute car ride Cas pulled into a hotel parking lot. Sam glanced over at Cas. “I thought we were going to a diner or something.” Cas didn’t look at Sam; simply responded “We’ll get room service. This conversation needs to be private.” He got out of the car and Sam followed, more than a little bit afraid of the conversation that was imminent. He followed Cas into his hotel room. He sat on a chair and stared at the wall without a word as Cas picked up the phone and ordered a large chicken salad and a hamburger with fries. Sam managed a slight smirk. Even without Jimmy buried inside his meat-suit, Cas still liked hamburgers. Dean’s influence… The thought was gone almost as soon as it arrived. He was terrified to have this conversation, and so many thoughts swirled in his brain… the shame, the disgust, and somewhere, hovering in the back of his mind, the feeling of betrayal that came with the knowledge that he had been fucking the only entity Cas had ever been in love with… how was he going to do this?

The food had arrived and sat untouched on the table between Sam and Cas, who was extremely concerned at this point and just stared at Sam as he looked down at his salad. “How can this not be good news, Sam? What can possibly prevent you from being happy that I have found a cure. More than that- it is a spell. We don’t have to convince him, involve him- nothing. WE CAN HAVE HIM BACK. You have to tell me why this is making you upset. I mean- I understand the demon blood addiction- but I can help with that as well! With minimal pain, _I promise_. Sam- things can be as they were! This is good news. Please, _please_ tell me what is the matter.” Sam looked into Castiel’s beautiful, innocent blue eyes, and doubled over crying, with his head in his hands. He managed to choke out: “We can’t cure Dean. Not now, not ever.”

Castiel was shocked to see Sam break down and was even more shocked at his words, but still pushed on. “No, Sam, but we can! Just wait until you hear how-“ Sam cut him off. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. If Dean were cured, he would know, as a human, what had been happening since he became a demon. He would retain the memories! Unless…” Sam looked up hopefully. “You could erase his memory? Of everything that happened while he was a demon. Can you do that?” Cas looked confused again. “I really don’t think I can, Sam, and even if I could…why? He seems to have been doing mostly good, and it would have the potential to damage his mind…” Cas trailed off and noted that Sam’s face was not only tear-stained- it was desperate. Suddenly, Cas felt a cold chill move up his spine.

“Sam. What has he done. What has he done that can be so bad that you can’t bear him remembering.” Sam looked at Cas, defeated. “It’s not what he’s done. It’s what we have been doing. Together.” Cas’s brow furrowed again. “Hunting?” Sam glance was withering. Suddenly, in one horrible moment, Cas understood. “Oh. You and Dean have begun… a sexual relationship.” Sam’s eyes flashed. “But that’s the thing, Cas. Dean didn’t do any such fucking thing. That demon did. That demon and I did. If you change Dean back… he will remember. And he will never speak to me again. You don’t understand, Cas. I had the power. I had the humanity… and I let it happen. And Dean will look at me with utter disgust and cut me out of his life.” Sam met Castiel’s gaze and said simply, “He will leave me, and he will no longer be my brother. When that day comes, I will end my life.”

After being momentarily frozen by Sam’s words, Cas finally looked up just in time to see his hotel room door being slammed shut. Sam was gone.

 

Castiel sat still for a very long time. His mind was swirling with the information that he had been given, and Sam’s parting words were still ringing in his ears. The thought of Sam sleeping with Dean in this form was not as troubling to Cas as it was to Sam, as Sam couldn’t see Dean’s true face. Every time Castiel looked at Dean all he saw was the face of a demon- he couldn’t see the beautiful human mask even if he had wanted to. Still, he understood Sam’s feelings. Even if he had been tricked into taking his first drink of demon blood in over five years, it was a great leap from that to entering into a sexual relationship with his brother’s body. And really- it _was_ his brother, in that Dean was not possessed.

Cas considered what Sam had said about Dean’s potential reaction upon returning to human form, and while he understood Sam’s fears, somehow he did not share them. He could not imagine that this man, who had spent his entire life devoted to his little brother, would ever disown him permanently. But the risk was there, and Cas didn’t feel good about potentially ruining Sam’s life that way. Finally Castiel stood up. He could not simply stand by and do nothing. These boys were his family and in his heart, he still considered himself their guardian. So a few days later, he went to speak with Dean. 

Castiel approached Dean in a bar near where the boys had been staying. He had wanted to catch him alone so had watched the hotel until he saw Sam leave, probably for the local library. Just as he was about to exit his car he saw Dean exit their hotel room, so instead he had followed Dean to a dive bar and given him a few minutes to settle in before entering the bar after him. Dean’s eyes glanced up as Cas approached his barstool. “Of all the gin joints in all the world.” Dean smiled slightly up at Cas and patted the stool next to him. “What can I do you for, Angel?” Cas did not sit. “Dean, can we…maybe move over to a booth. I need to speak to you privately about something.” Dean tossed back his shot, motioned to the bartender that he was moving seats, then picked up his beer and followed Cas to a semi-private booth in the corner of the bar.

“I have to say Cas, I’m genuinely curious as to what you are up to these days.” Dean stared at Cas intensely. “I mean first you were trying to “cure” me, then you disappear for a while, then that talk with Sam… he hasn’t been the same since, you know. Acting all fucking weird and guilty. I don’t like it.” Dean’s eyes flicked black for a second, involuntarily it seemed, then back to green in an instant. He leaned close to Cas. “I guess that’s why I’m sitting here with you instead of telling you to fuck off. I want to know what you said to my brother.”

Castiel looked calmly at Dean. Angels were not afraid of demons. “That is not why I am here, Dean. I am here to ask you a simple question. A…rhetorical one, if you will. Just one question, that’s all. And I’d like for you to answer me truthfully.” Dean looked at the clearly uncomfortable angel with a quizzical smile. “I don’t know why the hell I would be bothered to do any such thing, but since you went through the trouble to follow me here, I suppose I’m curious what your question is. Shoot.”

Cas shifted awkwardly. “Dean, when you were a human…I mean, before all of this, the mark, the blade… had you ever considered, well, even thought about… your brother, in a sexual manner?” Dean almost spit his beer out all over the table, laughing. “Is THAT what this is about? Did poor baby Sam spill his guts to his guardian angel?” Dean was laughing hard now. “Did he ask to be absolved for his sins? Were their tears?? No wonder the big oaf has been acting like this.” Dean’s laugh turned to soft chuckling and he turned to look at Cas, who was not smiling. “I’m sorry Cas, I guess I was just worried it was something worse. I thought you two were conspiring against me again- trying to make me human.” Dean chuckled. “Turns out it was just some girl-talk.” Dean shook his head.

“Anyway Cas I’m sorry, what was the question?” Dean looked mildly amused now. “Oh yeah- did I think of it before… now why would you want to know that?” Cas shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to know how much of our Dean was still in there. Incest is a great taboo among humans, so I thought maybe if you had thought of it as a human, it wouldn’t be such a big sign that you were completely lost to us. That was all.”

Dean looked at him, slightly suspicious at Cas’s explanation, but he saw no reason to lie. “Yeah, I might of thought about it here and there…I mean, I was inclined to fuck just about anything, but the way Pops raised me kept the gay shit to a minimum, and well, you can imagine how old me had to squash the urge with my own BROTHER. But man, Cas, he sure grew up hot. I think it started right around the time Ruby got her hooks into him. God Cas, I hated that bitch so much. And I tried to tell myself it was only because she was a demon but nah. I was jealous. I realized I wanted to put my hands on those giant shoulders and have him throw me up against a wall the way I imagined he did her…but you know, old me, he had a conscience.”

Dean smiled wickedly. “Hey Cas, you know, that actually felt good to say to someone!” He licked his lips. “So, as far as your curiosity goes…don’t suppose you’d be interested in joining us one of these times. I’ve wanted to get my hands on you ever since I laid eyes on you. You’re a hot piece of ass, you know that, right?”

Cas just looked at him sadly then got up from the booth. “Dean, if none of this had happened- if you had never become a demon…” he trailed off, then sat back down and looked Dean in the eyes. “I was in love with you the moment I pulled you out of hell. I was. And if things were different, I think we could have ended up together, I mean, _really_ together. I would have liked that, very much.” Dean looked at Cas with an expression that Cas could not place. Pity? Derision? Cas continued. “But it didn’t turn out that way Dean, and now you have slept with Sam and things are changed, irrevocably, forever. I just wondered if, as a human, you would still be able to love Sam in some way, despite what has happened between you.” Dean startled. “What do you mean by that. I’m never going to be human again so what does it matter.” Cas got up a second time from the booth and looked down at Dean. “It doesn’t I suppose.” he said, and walked out.

Cas knew Dean was not stupid and would figure out, based on their conversation, that he was up to something. He needed to perform the spell and he needed to do it fast. He headed straight back to the bunker.

 

After it was over he stayed there for a while, walking around the library, sitting at the tables where the boys used to eat, feeling pangs of nostalgia so horrible they surprised him. He had no way of knowing if the spell had worked. He had not warned Sam for fear of tipping off Dean, and he was frankly too afraid to call either one of them; afraid of the damage he might have caused. What if the spell hadn’t even worked? Or worse- what if Sam had been right, and Sam no longer had a brother because of him. He didn’t know what to do, so he just stayed. Finally he heard the sound of the door to the bunker sliding open.

Dean walked in. “Hey Cas.” Castiel turned to look at him, then his eyes grew brighter and more blue than Dean had ever seen. “Dean!” Cas met him at the bottom of the stairs and embraced him, despite himself. Dean held him close. “Yeah Cas, it’s me.” Cas pulled away. “What happened with Sam?” Worry covered the angel’s face, and Dean simply looked at the floor. “Um…nothing yet. He doesn’t know. As soon as I realized what had happened, I made an excuse and got the hell out of there and came here. I had a feeling this is where you would have done it.”

Cas said sternly “Dean. You have to tell him. You have to go to him.” Dean looked up angrily. “After everything I did to him?? Getting him back on the sauce? The… the rest of it? I've ruined his LIFE, Cas. What the hell am I supposed to say to him. Sorry?!?” Cas sighed, then relayed to Dean the full conversation that had taken place in the hotel that day with Sam. By the end of it, Dean’s eyes were watering. “Fuck Cas. Jesus fuck.” Cas said sternly “Go to him.”

Dean got up and started to leave, but after a few steps, he said without turning around. “Cas, about what you said to me in that bar. I just want you to know, I was in love with you too. I probably still am. Maybe always will be. But like you said, the damage is done- I fucked it all up, all of it, and now all I can do is try to make this right for my brother.” Dean walked out of the bunker.

 

Sam lay on his bed on top of the covers, reading. He heard Dean come in but didn’t acknowledge it. His guilt at not changing Dean back had been gnawing at him, and the tug-of-war in his brain had not let him sleep well for days. He was being selfish, he knew. What right did he have to let Dean stay a demon, just because he was afraid of losing him as a brother? But on the other hand, how could he even begin to imagine life without him, all alone? Sam knew he was nearing the place where he would tell Cas to just pull the trigger and do the damn spell, but he just wasn’t there yet. He just wasn’t ready.

Dean walked over to Sam’s bed and Sam looked up at him. “What’s up, Dean” Dean took the book out of Sam’s hands and placed it on the nightstand. Sam saw the look in his eyes and knew what it meant. They hadn’t fucked in almost a week because of Sam feeling like shit, but right then he knew that if he was going to go ahead with the spell, then he wanted this now. If he was going to burn for his sins then he was going to enjoy them, one last time.  He instinctively reached for the knife next to the bed, but Dean had taken it away from him.  "Not now, Sam."

They had pulled off their clothes and Dean had gotten in bed next to him and somehow things felt…different to Sam. Besides the fact that he wouldn't let Sam use the knife, Dean was usually much more forceful, much less…tender? than this. Lying on their sides, Dean worked Sam open gently and slowly from behind while running kisses down his shoulder and back. He entered Sam equally slowly and wrapped both his arms tightly around his brother while he thrust into him. 

Feeling Dean’s arms around his chest and his mouth softly locked onto his neck, Sam felt tears spring into his eyes, which hadn’t happened since the shock of the first time. He blinked them away angrily. Sam could feel Dean’s orgasm build as his thrusts grew faster and deeper, but suddenly Dean pulled Sam onto his back and got on top of him, entering him face-to-face. Sam swore he saw tears in Dean’s eyes also and was completely taken aback, but they were both so close to the edge his brain did not have the blood to process it. Dean stroked Sam’s giant cock to orgasm and they came at the same time, Dean pounding into his brother’s ass while Sam’s cum shot all over Dean’s hand and both of their stomachs. Afterwards Dean collapsed slowly onto his brother, ran his hand through Sam’s hair and started kissing him with everything he had.

Sam wanted to pull away, to ask Dean what the fuck kind of mind game he was trying to play now, but as he felt Dean’s tears against his face, he suddenly knew the truth. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Castiel and after the torture of the past few days the relief that flowed through his body was better than even the demon blood rush that Cas would soon cure him of. He kissed his brother back fiercely and finally Dean collapsed beside him and pulled Sam towards him so they were facing each other.

 “Sam, Cas told me what you said and I want it on record that you’re a fucking idiot.” Sam flushed as Dean cupped Sam’s face with his hands. “Do I really have to say it? Sammy, no matter what- human or demon, this life or the next one, I will _always_ love you with everything I have. I figured this was the only way I could really prove it to you once I was me again.” Sam stared into his brother’s green eyes. “Dean? It’s really you?” Dean smiled. Sam pulled Dean into his chest and held him; afraid he might never let go.


End file.
